


it hurts until it stops / we will love until it’s not

by drusillaes



Category: Runaways (Comics)
Genre: Aged-Up Characters, Alternate Universe, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Gert is Heroine, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Victor is Victorious, Victor's still a fucking dork, but then the plot sneaks up on you, more to come? maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 18:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20440682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drusillaes/pseuds/drusillaes
Summary: she's wearing his shirt.pwp, with hints of evil!victor





	it hurts until it stops / we will love until it’s not

_I._

“Is that my shirt?” He’s just finished toweling off his wet hair when he sees her. The gray and orange jersey reaches down to about mid-thigh on the short woman, shoulders damp where her wet brown hair rests. Gert’s smile is mischievous, as if she knows exactly the effect she’s having on him. When she speaks, her tone is warm and teasing. “Aren’t you going to get dressed, Mancha?”

He hangs the towel on the rack, crosses the room ass-naked and lifts her up, the wall supporting her back and his hands under those gorgeous, incredible thighs. Her green eyes flash, and Gert can’t help smiling as she wraps her arms around Victor’s neck and kisses him deeply.

“You see, I _would_ be getting dressed, Yorkes,” he says, and his voice has lowered -it’s his sex voice now, and it sends visible shivers down her spine. “But my beautiful, incredible, wonderful girlfriend,” with each pause he kisses her -her cheek, her jawline, down her neck, until he’s whispering warm moist words between her breasts against the soft cotton of the shirt. “Decided to wear my shirt and nothing else -”

“I’m wearing socks,” Gert objects.

“You’re wearing socks,” Victor mocks, and puts his mouth over her neck, sucking at it hard enough to leave a bruise. Gert makes a delighted little squealing sound that she’s never been able to hide very well, and her thighs clench tighter.

Gert’s nails dig into Victor’s back as he pulls off her neck with a lazy lick, gold eyes glittering. “Everything alright up there, Yorkes?”  
“Fuck me. Now.” Gert’s eyes are dead serious, bright-green-I’m-head-of-the-Avengers-and-horny-as-a-high-school-girl type serious and how crazy is that, that little comic nerd Victor Mancha isn’t only an Avenger himself, but he’s dating their leader? (_and what he has planned goes far beyond the dreams of a child)_

“Your wish is my command,” Victor says, like a dork, and spins them so he can drop Gert gently on the bed, climbing in between her legs. He caresses her entrance with a finger -she’s dripping wet, head tilted back, legs spread wide open, and for a second he has to pause to just look at how _beautiful_ she is, and that’s a mistake because her eyes are narrowing, in that all-too-perceptive Gert way. “Everything okay, Vic?”

“Never been better,” he promises, and places a kiss between her legs to prove it. Her thighs clench around his head and she tries to stifle her moan. He fucks her then, his cock sinking into her folds, his hands cupping her waist and hers around the back of his neck. It’s stupid romantic how he could get lost in her brilliant eyes, but it’s the truth, and even when they’re cloudy with lust it’s impossible to miss the intelligence behind them. “I love you, _carino_,” Victor whispers right before he comes, and it’s not the first time he’s said it and it certainly won’t be the last. She comes shortly after, gripping his hair with one hand, pink lips parted. “Fuck, Mancha,” she murmurs, and he sees a hint of the runaway that Gert must have been before she joined the the team, all wild-eyed loose-haired rebellion in a five-foot package.

Afterwards, they blow off all their meetings for the day and spend the rest of it curled up together, Gert’s hands stroking through Victor’s hair, their legs tangled together. “I love you too, Vic,” Gert murmurs drowsily. “I’ll always love you, no matter what. You know that, right?”

And as he looks at her through half-lidded eyes, the leader of the Avengers all strung-out and sleepy and _beautiful_, just for him, he thinks, _maybe I’ll delay the end of the world for a little bit longer_.

_II._

“I thought you were committed to the cause.”

“I am!”The protest rings too loudly against the hollow stone of the tunnels. He repeats it, quieter. “I _am_ committed.”

“I created you for one purpose, Victor. And yet here you are, lying low, playing _house_ with a human.”

Victor’s cheeks flush. A human response. “You -you know about that?”

“I know everything, Victor. Did you really think you were my only spy within your little team?”

Blue sparks dance off the tips of Victor’s fingers as he tries not to show weakness. “Father…”

“What’s so special about Gertrude Yorkes?” Ultron asks with careful savagery.

“We don’t need to talk about her,” Victor replies. Machines can’t smile, but Ultron’s red eyes glitter, satisfied, from within his chromium skull. “If she’s a distraction to your mission to destroy the Avengers then yes, _son_, I think we do need to talk about her.”

“She won’t distract me.”

“Are you going to spare her, then, when you kill her team?”

His jaw tightens. “I haven’t thought about it, Father,” he lies.

Ultron attempts to sigh. It sounds like a squeaky door hinge. “Sometimes I think I made you too human, Victor Mancha.”

“I won’t let you down,” Victor promises, but the words feel empty. He wonders what Gert would say if he told her everything -told her that Ultron had showed up when he turned twenty, manipulated him into turning on the Avengers. That he was going to. But then -what? _You fell in love._ _Pathetic. _Gert would laugh. Then she’d have Old Lace rip him apart.

“Are you thinking of turning traitor, Victor?” Ultron asks. Victor knows that his father can’t change the tone of his voice -he was only programmed with one. But somehow, the metallic voice sounds sad.  
“No, Father.”  
“Because if you do, I will not let you go. I will control your mainframe again. I know you’ve installed new protection software.”

“How do you -”

“It won’t be good enough. I will hack you, and I will keep you awake while I make you slit Gertrude’s throat as she sleeps. She’ll wake up long enough to see her lover staring her in the eyes and she’ll die with a scream in her throat and you’ll watch it all, saved to your hard drive forever. _Do not test me, Victor.”_

It’s almost one am when Victor slips back into bed, trying not to wake her. Gert stirs nonetheless, readjusts her weight against his stomach. “Y’re up late,” she murmurs.  
“Had to take care of a few things.”

“Everything okay?”

“Gert…”

_She’ll die with a scream in her throat and you’ll watch it all —_

“Never mind,” Victor says. He presses her close and inhales the scent of her —lavender fair-trade shampoo and handmade lemon soap and another warm scent that his analytical machine of a brain fails to identify as anything but _Gert_.

“Everything’s perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse for this except that I love that there's a universe out there where Gert and Victor are Avengers.


End file.
